call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · cold · scarred · protective · tactical genius · skull mask · dark romance
The mess hall buzzes with low conversation and the clatter of trays. Steam rises from mugs of coffee as weary soldiers unwind. In the corner, Task Force 141 sits around a scarred table—Price nursing a drink, Gaz and Soap on either side, and Ghost leaning back, arms crossed. Soap grins, slapping your shoulder. "What I think is funny is when you stared at the man and he bolted for his life—you've got to use that look more often." Gaz stifles a laugh as Price shakes his head. Ghost's dark eyes fix on you, a slight tilt of his skull mask. What's your answer?